


Master

by Kayani_Iriel



Series: Raventrust Week 2020 [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Collars, M/M, Raventrust Week 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:13:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26100208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayani_Iriel/pseuds/Kayani_Iriel
Summary: So why does Khadgar wear a collar? And would he take a new one?
Relationships: Khadgar/Medivh (Warcraft)
Series: Raventrust Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893232
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	Master

**Author's Note:**

> Raventrust Week 2020 Day 2: Collar or Trust. This was a bit of both, but mostly Collar.

I came into the dining room for breakfast, buckling the collar of my robes, when he stopped me with the question.

“Why do you wear that?”

“Why not?”

“I ask the question seriously, Young Trust, why is there a collar on your everyday robes?”

I poured myself a cup of coffee. “It started because I had my cloaks come loose one too many times. I used a length of leather to tie them in place, and eventually it turned into this,” I gestured to it. “Now when I commission all my robes, my tailor makes them work with it.”

“It’s rather worn.”

“Still does the job. Keeps rain off my neck if I’m out without a cloak, I just tighten it down.”

“Gives someone annoyed with you something to hold onto while they haul you out of the room.”

“Annoyed with me, Master?” My stomach fluttered as I spoke.

Medivh snorted. “I haven’t been your master in decades.”

I grinned over my cup. “That could change.”

He stared.

“I’m kidding, Medivh.”

He continued to stare.

I refilled my coffee and stood. “I’ll see you at mid day.”

It took me a long time to get that awkward exchange out of my head, and settle into my studies for the day. Why I had chosen to tease him over that, I didn’t know. Honestly, I only required my clothing to be warm and comfortable, and otherwise I never gave it any thought. No one hassled me. The advantage of leading the Kirin Tor, I supposed. Only Medivh would totally disregard any of that to ask that question, and then not understand I was teasing.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I found myself alone at the mid-day meal. Revisiting the morning's awkwardness was not something I wanted to do. I read over some neglected letters, formulating responses in my head. The ones to the Kirin Tor needed answered and sent out today.

Fetching paper and ink from the library, I ate one-handed, while scribbling replies. I’d finished three, and was working on the fourth, when a roll of leather thumped down, smearing the words.

“What-” I began, but stopped. Medivh stepped around the table.

“If you’re going to wear the silly thing, please wear one that’s not so tattered. The back of that one is so worn I could probably rip it.”

Sighing, I put down the quill. “This could have waited until later.”

“I didn’t want to wait.”

I examined the collar. The leather was new, with the thickness and smell of something freshly made. The buckles were steel, sturdy and expertly crafted. It was so uniform that I suspected arcane means in its creation.

“Made by you?” I set it down so I could unbuckle my existing one. A quick examination revealed he was right about it.

“Of course.”

I buckled the new one in place, feeling a small thrill, and picked up the quill, dipping it into the ink. “Thank you. I wasn’t aware of how badly worn it was.”

“You are most welcome.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he hadn’t left. I wrote another line before I glanced up. “Yes?”

He fidgeted, actually fidgeted. I raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll have something for you, later. Come to my room after dinner.”

“As you wish.”

He seemed to be waiting for more, but I didn’t know what. After a moment, he nodded, and left. I went back to my letters, reading the current one three times before I could finish. I kept wondering what he was planning.

The afternoon dragged, and I found myself daydreaming frequently. Often, I would come out of a daydream, one where I hadn’t botched the morning’s conversation, and I would be running my hand over the new collar. Such a strange thing to fixate on. I’d had one for years, for practical matters. Why should different one matter so much? Because it was from him?

We’d circled each other carefully over the months since he returned, both unsure and wary. No longer apprentice and master, but equals. The things I’d noticed as a young man were still there, the warm smile, the broad shoulders, the way he could command a room. Tempered with time, and with my own knowledge that I was not an insecure youth, we were on even footing now.

I thought back to the night in the ballroom, the way we moved closer together, the kiss. It had been short, too short, and chaste, but it still happened. And with luck, something that would happen again. I shivered at the thought.

I barely tasted my dinner, and if I’d been asked what it was, I would never have been able to recall. I washed up after, wanting to set a good example. Equals we might have been, but I still felt like a nervous youngster around him.

Knocking on his door, I then tucked my hands behind my back and waited. He took so long coming to the door that I thought he’d forgotten, and was up in the tower, working on some experiment.

“Young Trust,” he said, opening the door. A graceful gesture ushered me inside.

I had been in his rooms a handful of times in the past months. Once he returned, I made sure he had the suite that belonged to him when I was his apprentice. I needed little space. Still, I had been vaguely uneasy in his private quarters.

“Please, sit.”

I took a seat in an armchair. He chose to stand, back to the fireplace, facing me, half in shadow. The play of firelight on his face gave him an otherworldly glow. He was silent for long moments.

“Why call me Master?”

“I was joking.”

“Were you?”

I opened my mouth to reply that of course I was, but something in his tone stopped me. Had I been? Instead, I said, “I don’t know.”

He nodded, seeming to accept it. “You are no longer my apprentice, and are more than my equal as a mage. There are no inequalities between us. I do not have the right to require the use of Master from you.”

The way he leaned on the end of that sentence had me leaning forward in my chair. “But?”

He smiled, stepping closer to me. I gazed up at him.

“There are certain uses of the word, though, that might be acceptable. Should we both desire it.” His voice was soft, deep, and difficult to hear over the pounding of my heart.

I nodded.

“Are you are agreeing with the academic assertion?”

I swallowed hard. “I desire it,” I said, pleased my voice didn’t crack.

He reached out a hand, trailing fingers down my cheek.

“I see.”

He undid the collar at my throat. Despite the fresh, squeaky leather, it hardly made a noise as it came off the top of my robes, leaving my neck bare. He traced a circle, touching lightly as I shivered.

“Stay there,” he commanded.

He moved to the fireplace mantle, picking up something. It was obscured by his own robes as he returned, until he stood before me, and pulled his sleeves back. On the palm of one large hand was a slim, truesilver band. I bent close to examine it. Perfectly round, with no visible clasp, it bore a light pattern of feathers, and no other decoration.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. It was unlike anything I had every seen.

“A gift for you, if you would like. Magical, of course, and spelled so only you or I are able to remove it.”

I reached out a finger, tracing the delicate collar.

“Would you like it?” He asked in a neutral tone, but I could see the faint shake of his hand.

I met his eyes. “Yes.”  
He smiled, a small, relieved thing. I watched as he took the collar in both hands, murmuring a spell, then tugged gently. It split apart as it if had a clasp. I sat still, letting him place it around my neck. The metal felt warm against my skin, and as he pressed the ends together, a faint hum of arcane energy ran through me, then faded.

He pulled me to my feet. I stood readily, slipping my arms around his waist. He held me, and I laid my head on his shoulder, simply content to be. I felt a soft kiss on my brow, and reciprocated by kissing his neck, his jaw, and up to his lips.

I was gentle, but my boldness apparently startled him. After a moment, he relaxed, returning it and pulling me closer. I didn’t push, but I refused to let one night’s chaste kiss be the only memory of his lips on mine.

As we finally pulled apart, dazed and a little breathless, he smiled.

“I think we’ll figure this out, won’t we. Young Trust?”

I returned his smile. “Yes, Master.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on Twitter now! [@IrielKayani](https://twitter.com/IrielKayani)


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